Fae Prophecy (The Fae Prophecy Series Book 1)
Page 1
Contents
Title Page
Copy Right
Acknowledgements
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
About the author
Books by Toni Cox
The Fae
Prophecy:
Prophecy
Copyright © 2020 Toni Cox
Cover design by Julie Nicolls
Editing by Sam Talarico
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the written permission of the author constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are all used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locales or persons living or dead, are coincidental.
Acknowledgements
In 2019, I knew I wanted to write a series for 2020. I knew that I wanted to make it at least four books, and that I wanted to do a rapid release.
What I didn’t know, was which story to write. On my wall above my laptop I have a list. On this list I have the names of all the books I still want to write.
There are the series, the trilogies, and the stand-alones from the Elemental universe. There is the set of books for the Andromeda Galaxy. And, the dark fantasy series Dragonlore.
I also have a list of Urban Fantasy books I want to write, as well as some more post-apocalyptic type fantasy.
My heart was torn, but it was at that point that I took a ‘series mentorship course’ with Rebecca Hamilton. The way her teachings made us lay out each of our ideas, cemented my decision.
So, it is with thanks to Rebecca, that I bring you The Fae Prophecy Series this year.
Working throughout 2020 has not been easy. This has been a year of many challenges, as I am sure, many of you can attest to.
Those of you who subscribe to my newsletter will know the difficulties I’ve faced throughout 2020, but it did not detract from the joy writing this series has brought me.
In all the ‘dark’ that 2020 brought with it, there were some bright beams of light in my life that helped me along the way. They were the ones that made it possible for me to carry one.
Darren Cox, my husband, my constant pillar of strength… and supplier of cappuccino!
Sian Claven, my #AuthorBestie who I can always rely on for advice, story ideas, and moral support. She’s also my beta reader, and my worst critic.
Ashleigh Giannoccaro, my other #AuthorBestie, who is always there for a motivating chat, donuts, and bunny cuddles.
My beta readers, Larouchelle Leveuvre and Chriss Prokic, who remain encouraging, even when brutally honest.
And, then, my #AuthorMentor, Erika Bester, who guided me throughout the series, helped me flesh it out, make it stronger, and make it the best it could be.
My amazingly beautiful covers are the artwork of the talented Julie Nicolls, who took my ideas, and magically turned them into colour.
Editing was done by my new editor, the lovely Sam Talarico. So much patience, understanding, and heart has gone into these books from her, and it shines through.
Thank you to my readers, and everyone who has waited patiently for the series to be released. I hope you love it as much as I do.
Feel free to subscribe to my newsletter:
https://www.tonicoxauthor.com/subscribe
Dedication
This book, and the series, is dedicated to my ‘kids’
Joshua, Jamie, and Wendy
For no matter how old they are
They will always be my children
Chapter 1
A storm of dark magic raged around me, disturbing my dreams. It seeped into my veins, cold as ice, burning.
I sat bolt-upright in my bed, grabbing a post with a white-knuckle grip as another blast of magic rocked the palace.
“Rosalie,” I called for my handmaiden, but she’d be in her own room, now.
I cowered under my blankets as another piece of the ornate ceiling crashed to the floor, exploding in a cloud of stinging fragments and dust.
Even through the covers, the clattering of plaster on marble rang painfully in my ears.
The shaking didn’t stop, and I coughed in the dusty air as I lifted the blanket, trying to see even a few feet ahead of me as I scrambled off the bed.
My room crumbled before me. Even as I watched, my precious pearl-and-crystal night light crashed to the ground.
“No!”
Instinctively, my hand flung out, issuing the magic for the vines along the wall to grow, to catch my night light, to save it.
Not fast enough. It crashed to the floor, shattering into a million pieces ~ as did my heart. My mother’s light. One of the few things I had left of her.
More of the ceiling fell around me. I raised my arms to shield my face.
The dust was now so thick; I could barely see. Trembling, I held out my palm and let the blue glow that emanated from it guide me to the door. It was a foreign magic, but I could really use it now. I didn’t matter to me right now that it was forbidden for the fae to use any other magic than fae magic.
I couldn’t breathe. Pain in my forearm. Blood dripped from it where the fragments from the ceiling had bit into it.
My hands shook as I tore a strip of fabric from my tattered nightdress to tie around the stinging wound. I audibly sucked the air in through my clenched teeth.
A dull rumble alerted me, and I darted to the door before the rest of the ceiling collapsed into my chamber.
In the long passage leading from my room, the walls already crumbled. Centuries-old paintings fell from their hangings to crash and splinter on the marble floor.
Screams came from all directions, people scrambling to safety, but no-one came to rescue me. I just hoped they would all be safe.
I took a deep breath to steady myself and balled my right hand into a fist to dull the strange glow. It just would not stop glowing.
Then I ran, dodging bits of falling debris on my way.
The royal chambers were not far from mine, but I knew I needed to get there soon ~ they wouldn’t help my father. Not now. They had in the beginning, but now they blamed him for these attacks.
I passed the ivory carvings ~ winged nymphs, mounted archers, flying horses, delicate lilies; all of which shook precariously.
“Hmph.”
The wind got knocked out of me as one of the servants crashed into me as I rounded a corner. The knock opened my fist and exposed some of the light. Hastily, I hid the strange magic.
“Pardon, my Lady,” the servant managed to say before scampering off, but not before eyeing my hand suspiciously.
“Guards,” I called, hopeful, but there were none in sight.
Tears shot into my eyes, and not just because of the dust hanging in the air within the crumbling palace. Was there no-one left who believed their king was as helpless as everyone else?
The dark magic wormed its way into our fae home, tearing down its defences, bringing down its foundations. I trembled at the thought of it.
&nb
sp; “Father,” I shouted into the darkness of his room. “Are you here?”
His chamber was not as dusty as mine, with most of the ceiling still intact. Ivy still curled around the woven lattice on the walls. A chandelier had fallen, and the floor cracked.
“Father,” I tried again, and this time, I heard a groan. “Guards,” I yelled again, even as I sprinted forward into the dark room.
“Dana…” My father’s hand reached for me as I rounded the corner of his four-poster bed. His blonde hair was grey with dust.
“Father, are you alright?” I asked, but as I assessed the situation, I cringed.
One of the uprights of the bed had collapsed and had my father trapped beneath it. He must have been trying to get out of bed when it fell.
“I am not hurt, faeling,” he said, “but I cannot lift this infernal log.”
Dust and sweat smeared his face, and I could tell he had been trying. Silently, I cursed the guards for abandoning their posts.
“Here,” I knelt beside him in the dust, “let me help.”
“It won’t budge, Dana. I’ve tried.”
“It must, Father. We need to get out of here. This attack is the worst it’s ever been.”
I saw the sadness in his eyes, and my heart bled for him. He was a good king; if they could only see it.
“Together, then,” he said, bracing his arms against the oaken beam.
“Together.”
The trembling around us intensified as we pushed against the pillar. As a piece of ceiling crashed to the floor, dust enveloped us, making us cough in fits, stalling our efforts.
“It’s no use.”
I heard defeat in my father’s voice, squeezing my heart. My throat ached as it constricted with all the words I wanted to say to him but that wouldn’t come out now.
“Again.”
I didn’t wait for him. Standing, I put all my weight against the beam and started pushing. It was the wrong angle and my father groaned as the wood ground across his leg.
“Dana, stop. Get out of here before it all comes down. Go.”
“No, I am not leaving you.” The tears rolled freely now. “I will get you out of here.”
“The guards are gone, faeling.” His voice was soft now. “It’s too heavy for us to shift. Come back for me when the attack has stopped.”
I could still feel it ~ the dark magic weaving its evil fingers through our home, rattling its walls. It left a bitter taste at the back of my throat. I pulled a face, and I suddenly knew what to do. I didn’t care what it would cost.
“No. I am getting you out of here.”
Determined, I stepped away from my father, and I held out my palm. The blue light was shaky as I wielded it before my father for the first time. His eyes were like saucers as he watched the magic unfold in my hand.
I ignored his shocked look and concentrated on the bed’s pillar. My hand was warming up now, and the glow became brighter. The magic uncoiled.
I had almost no control over this foreign magic. It frightened me. I knew not where it came from, or what it was.
My father’s face was pale in its glow, but I tried not to be distracted by the sight of it. Taking shallow breaths so I didn’t cough in the dusty air, I concentrated harder on this magic than I had ever before.
This was it. This had to work. My arm shook, but as the light from my palm intensified, the beam rose into the air.
My father wriggled from beneath it; his bedclothes dirty and torn. The moment he was free, I dropped the wood, unable to keep it aloft any longer. I crumpled in a heap to the floor next to my father, arms around his neck.
“How did you do that?” he asked, but I shook my head. There was no time for questions now.
Amid the shaking and rumbling, we staggered to our feet, holding on to each other for support. Out in the wide passage, we kept to the middle, away from the flaking walls.
“It’s easing.”
To prove I was right, I veered to the side and put my hand on the wall. Even as I did so, the shaking subsided. An eerie silence settled around us as we stood there, alone in an abandoned palace.
A smile spread across my face, then froze when I saw the defeat in my father’s eyes. He leaned against the opposite wall, fingers pressed to his temple.
“Father,” I rushed to his side, “let us seek out your advisers and the councillors. There must be a way to defeat this evil.”
“It is too late, Dana,” he sighed. “Did anyone see you using that magic?”
“How can it be too late, Father? Why are the councillors even accusing you of bringing this evil upon us? They don’t stand above you.”
“They have their reasons. I can’t stop the attacks, so I must pay for them. You know it is the fae way.”
By the way he avoided my eyes, I thought there was something else he was not telling me.
“But, Father…”
“Dana,” he grabbed me by my shoulders, his eyes stern now, “did anyone see you using that magic?”
“No,” my eyebrows furrowed deeply as I thought about it, “maybe. I ran into one of the servants, and he may have seen my palm glow.”
“Then, you need to leave, my child.”
“Father, why? What is going on?”
Distant footsteps echoed down the passage to our right, and my father pulled me around the corner of a marble pillar.
“Dana, if the councillors find out you wield a foreign magic, I will not be able to protect you.”
“But …”
“Hide, Dana.”
With a rough push, I got flung over a railing into a flower garden, just as several guards rounded the corner. I spat out a mouthful of dirt.
Tears spilt from my eyes, but I remained still, hiding, as the footsteps neared and the guards surrounded my father, reading him a missive from the councillors.
They did not give him an option to speak for himself but asked him to follow them to be judged.
Once all was silent again, I climbed out of my hiding place and brushed off the dirt from my nightdress. My hands shook, but I stilled their trembling ~ I needed to be strong now.
With life coming back into the palace, and servants once more scuttling along the corridors, moving about unseen would prove difficult. I had to act quickly.
Biting back the pain of running over the broken bits of ceiling with my bare feet, I hurried back to my room.
I only took a moment to wipe the dust and blood away before getting dressed in the most practical of clothes I could find.
“Ladybug, you are hurt.”
My sweet-faced handmaiden rushed into my room. I let her dab at my still bleeding arm, and then I hugged her tight.
“I have to go, Rosalie.”
Pulling the hood of my green coat far over my head to cover all of my voluminous red hair, I headed back out into the corridors.
Today had been the worst of the seven attacks over the past couple of weeks. So much had been destroyed. It would take weeks to rebuild.
Hiding my face within my hood, I followed the scuttling footfalls of the other palace dwellers to the centre court.
A crowd had gathered here, and I could see my father sitting on a plain chair on the main stage where the summer plays were performed.
Four councillors stood around him, and my father’s entourage of advisers formed a tight group behind him. I could barely see his face between the swishing red coats of the councillors.
Guards lined the outside walls of the plaza as it filled with spectators. Captain Jared walked about, keeping order amongst muttering people as they assembled.
A sour taste settled in my mouth as I found my place among the crowd, trying to blend in.
“The king stands accused of treason,” proclaimed Councillor William, head of the councillors, efficiently silencing the gathered crowd. “Until such time as he can be cleared of treason, he shall be arrested and removed from office.”
I expected the crowd to gasp, or moan, but when they nodded and clapped,
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Grinding my teeth, I listened.
“In his absence, his advisers will rule with the council. Unless the king’s innocence can be proven within three months, a new regent will be chosen.”
A guard stomped onto the stage and asked my father to stand. He obeyed. The small crowd clapped again as the guard led my father away to the cells.
The councillor spoke again, but I did not stick around to listen. I wanted to get out of the plaza before I was discovered. Stepping around a flowery archway, I slipped behind a trellis of roses.
It was as good a hiding place as any. Draeguard Palace was full of flowers, even in winter, and the ornate arrangements had always been my favourite hiding places.
I waited for everything to quieten before daring to go back into the corridors of the palace.
Although I had been born here and knew the palace intimately, I did not know much about the dungeons. I cursed the lack of knowledge now as I tried to find a safe way there.
Finally finding a second entrance that did not contain guards sprawled all over the stairs, I climbed down two flights of stone steps into darkness. Opening my palm a fraction, I allowed some of the blue light to escape so I could see.
An oaken door at the bottom of the steps barred my way to what I hoped were the dungeons, but when I tried the door, it was locked. Frustrated, I pushed against it.
Tears rolled down my face again.
Standing there in the soft blue glow of my palm, an idea formed in my mind. Turning towards the door, I aimed my palm at the lock.
My hand trembled. What if there were guards on the other side? What if I used too much, or too little, magic?
I closed my eyes and willed the blue magic towards the lock. The wood around it splintered, and the door creaked ajar.
With wide eyes and a still trembling hand, I reached out and opened the door wider. The room beyond was empty, stone walls and recessed alcoves with metal bars. Even here, there was some damage from the attack.
“Dana.”
My father’s whispered voice sounded harsh in my ears, and I suddenly saw his pale fingers reach through the bars of a cell to my left. I hurried to him.